


Bound and Determined

by TrekFaerie



Series: gods among these wretched stars [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Dating, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Falling In Love, Femdom, Friends to Lovers, Jealousy, M/M, Making Out, Miscarriage, Multi, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Pre-OT3, Pregnancy, Slow Burn, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-05-19 20:06:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5979538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrekFaerie/pseuds/TrekFaerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arranged to be married by their families, Hux and Phasma try to make the situation work. Kylo is upset for reasons he doesn't understand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> first attempt at a longer fic in this fandom! i'm so emotionally invested in the trash triad. rating will eventually change because I plan on smut. idk I gotta plan shit out.
> 
> Phasma's real name is Jocasta and she's a granddaughter of Grand Moff Tarkin, through his son Garoche. both of these things are because I goddamn well felt like it and no other reason.

Hux was woken up by the loud ping of an arriving message in the middle of the night; apparently, his mother had forgotten about time differentials in space, as she normally did. As he pulled himself out of bed, he wondered what pointless, inane thing she'd woken him up for this time. Probably gossip. He couldn't count the number of times she'd messaged him in the middle of something important-- sleep, meetings, a goddamn speech or two-- with an update on who had insulted who or the latest adultery scandal.

The message read, in the fully capitalized text she favored: FOUND YOU A BRIDE. MORE INFO TO COME.

He rolled his eyes. He'd actually been very fortunate in that regard, compared to others he knew; his mother was so damn stuck up and picky that, though she'd been searching for over fifteen years, not a single eligible candidate for marriage pleased her. Madame Hux loved her son with a passion rivaled only by her own narcissism, and he was beginning to think that there wasn't a girl in the whole galaxy that she would think good enough for him.

Well, apparently, she'd found one. As he waited for her next message, he idly wondered who it would be. Probably some simpering fool with a good pedigree and a pretty face, good for popping out heirs and very little else.

 _Ping_!

The name on the message didn't match the name that popped into his mind. After all, he knew the names of most of his highest officers, even the ones who normally went by nicknames.

His mother wanted him to marry Captain Phasma.

-

The door chime woke her up. She blearily reached for the chrono and groaned at the time she saw, but got up and quickly dressed anyway. They would only bother her at such a time if it were truly serious, nothing short of a full-on Resistance attack or something of that nature. The lack of sirens or explosions as she crossed her room didn't dissuade her of that notion.

When the door opened, General Hux was standing there, vastly underdressed; just his overcoat over his normal sleeping clothes. Her first instinct was to stand at attention, but something about his own posture made her reconsider. He looked distressed, but not "the Finalizer is about to be shot out of the sky" levels of distressed. This was not about First Order business.

"Have you checked your mail lately?" he asked.

"No, I've been sleeping, as all reasonable people are right now."

"Check it. Now."

She frowned. "Is that an order, sir?" she asked.

"If it gets you to do it any faster, then, yes, it is."

She rolled her eyes and went to check her mail. It seemed as neat and empty as she'd left it the night before-- oh, but there was something new. A message from her grandmother, oddly enough-- it had been years since the matriarch had personally reached out to her. It had to be something very serious, but luckily the message was rather short, so she could read it very--

Oh. Well. That certainly explained Hux's unease.

She just found it a little amusing. "I thought the old witch had finally given up and would let me die an old maid," she said. "After all these years..."

"My mother is a very persuasive woman," he said, and though Phasma only knew her through the Imperial grapevine, she knew he was understating it by half.

She shrugged. "I guess she sees no harm in it. The name dies with me, anyway."

"Actually," Hux said, casually clearing his throat, "I believe it would be optimally beneficial for the children to go by the Tarkin name. It carries much more cache than mine."

Her first thought was, 'That's surprisingly selfless coming from a man so obsessed with himself.' She didn't say it out loud.

Her second thought was, 'So, the rumors about your obsession with my grandfather are true.' She didn't say that out loud, either.

What she did do was raise an eyebrow and say, "You're thinking about children already?" She had barely had enough time to wrap her mind around marriage itself-- surely the rather short walk from his quarters to hers wasn't enough time to start planning out the nursery.

"Of course I am!" he scoffed. "Why wouldn't I? That's what this whole thing is about, isn't it? Revitalizing your family line, increasing my family's status-- it's all for nothing if we leave no issue."

She went quiet for quite a long time. She really had thought Grandmother Thalassa had given up on the whole thing; she'd resigned herself to dying alone years before, taking lovers and perhaps birthing a bastard or two, but never settling down into the sort of loveless arrangement others of her station found themselves in... Perhaps she'd even toyed with the idea of marrying _for_ love, when she was still a young girl. Not a very Imperial thing to do, but she'd been a bit of a dreamer, too.

The lover of her dreams had always been tall, dark, and dashingly handsome. Looking him over, well... She supposed he was a bit cute. In his way. She could make this work.

"Pardon?"

Oh, dear. Something she'd been thinking had managed to work its way out of her brain and through her mouth. Given his confused, not furious, expression, she assumed it was only the very last bit.

He was still staring at her. "Make _what_ work?"

"It's going to be a while until the wedding. I'm sure they're bound to try to rush it, but nothing concrete will happen until after the completion of Starkiller Base. It's far too important." He nodded in agreement, so she continued on, feeling slightly bold. "If we're to be together the rest of our lives, we might as well learn to like each other."

He looked, strangely enough, slightly hurt. "I like you well enough," he said.

"Professionally. We're not exactly friends or anything," she said, as kindly as she could. "But, we could try to be. At the very least. From what I've seen in my own family, being able to tolerate each other will be a great strength."

A brief silence. He seemed to be seriously mulling over the idea. For a moment, she was seriously worried he'd decline.

"It's a bit odd-- but, this _is_ a rather odd situation. Most couples don't actually meet each other until their wedding night, let alone work together." He shrugged. "It's certainly worth a try, Captain."

"Let's start by using our given names," she said, a bit worried that such a thing was something she actually had to bring up, and not just a given. "In private. In public, it will always be General Hux and Captain Phasma, of course."

"Of course." He paused, took in a sharp breath as if preparing to give one of his speeches... "Jocasta, then."

She smiled slightly. "Brendol, then."

It was a start. And all things must have a start. Good, and bad.


	2. Chapter 2

He had put far more effort into the event than she'd thought he would. To be honest, she hadn't expected anything at all; just to dine together in the officers' mess would be change enough from normal. She'd always eaten with her men, while, as far as she knew, Hux always took his meals alone. She'd expected it to sort of meet in the middle.

The room was completely empty, despite it being the time most everyone ate dinner. She suspected he'd either bribed or threatened everyone into staying away that night, though she hoped for the former. (She'd hear Mitaka's bitching in the morning, either way.)

The emptiness of the room made the one occupied table even more obvious. It looked nearly exactly the same as every other in the room (she couldn't tell if she was more offended that Hux hadn't gone through the trouble of setting up tablecloths and candles for their very romantic date than she would've been mortified if he actually had), except for the modest two-person meal and wine set in front of either chair.

She sat and examined the plate in front of her. It all seemed very nice, not overly fancy but not too casual... Ah, but there was a _slight_ problem, wasn't there? She was left in the unenviable position of having to pretend to eat, all while Hux tucked into his food with surprising gusto. (He was so scrawny! Where did he put it all?) She hoped that pushing it around with her fork could make it seem like she'd eaten, and kept her wine glass constantly in hand, hoping that drinking would make up for it...

Hux had many traits that made him an excellent military commander. It was unfortunate, for her, that one of them happened to be excellent perception. 

He had placed his own fork down and was staring at her intently. "Do you not like your food, Ca--" He caught the word before it fully fell from his mouth, and smoothly transitioned it into, "-- Jocasta?"

She made a dismissive gesture. "It's nothing," she said. "I'm just allergic to tomatoes."

The only sign of what she could only assume was a great inner turmoil was a slight twitch of his eye. "You're joking," he said.

"No. It's the one thing in the entire galaxy that I've ever had a bad reaction to, actually." That revealed one very important fact: Hux had not informed culinary who he was to be dining with that night; if they'd known it was her, they would've prepared a more appropriate meal. Their engagement was still entirely under wraps from everyone. She idly wondered if even the Supreme Leader knew about it.

There was a storm gathering in his eyes. She felt sorry for whatever poor chef was about to be transferred to a transport ship cafeteria.

... Ah, but then something much more pleasing caught her eye. "I can, however, eat this," she said, reaching over to where a small dish had been placed to the side of the main meal. "I could eat a lot of this."

He visibly relaxed. "We would've had quite the problem if you weren't able to eat ryshcate," he said, the corners of his lips quirking up into a slight smile.

She cut off a small piece of brown cake with her fork and brought it to her lips, savoring it. "It's one of my favorite desserts," she said. "One of many. I've been told I'm overly fond of sweet things."

"There's no such thing," he said. "That's something we have in common. At least."

The rest of their time was spent with the most idle of chatter: about their work, mostly, with very little forays into personal matters. She preferred it that way; she was much more comfortable talking about her troops and battle plans than she was talking about herself. She knew he was the same way-- and she liked how he got this little glint in his eye every time their talk turned to Starkiller Base. It made him look just a little bit mad, like puffs of smoke coming from a snow-capped volcano.

"A little bit of a rough start," he said as they finished, sounding like it physically pained him to admit it, "but we never thought any of this would be easy."

"Nothing worth doing in life ever is." He grinned at that, and she felt herself grinning back.

They stood at the door, facing each other, the silence ringing loud in her ears. She saw him step forward slightly, saw his face tilt up towards hers... But, she slammed her hand against the door button, and stepped away without another word, leaving him staring at the space she left behind.

As she left the room, she bumped into Kylo Ren-- quite literally, as he'd just turned the corner and she hadn't been paying attention to where she was going. She gave a mumbled apology and kept walking, still not paying any attention.

(If she had, she would've noticed his staring, his odd expression. She would've realized it was the first time he'd ever seen her without her helmet on.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> halfway through writing this chapter, I added a new entry to my notes for this work: "hux is an overly-eager virgin but will never admit it. kylo is an overly-eager virgin but everyone knows it. phasma is none of these things."


	3. Chapter 3

In retrospect, letting Hux choose the holofilm was a bad idea. She should've guessed that he'd have no taste (there wasn't a very robust arts program at the academy, and she highly suspected he'd never attempted anything outside of that), but if you had told her that, of all the billions of holos in the galaxy, he'd pick literal Imperial propaganda, she would've laughed. Surely, she had so naively thought, he could not be that stereotypical.

It wasn't a very exciting film, compared to the ones she'd been to as a teenager-- the romance holos eager lovers had taken her to, the action-packed adventures the cleverer ones had elected for-- but, it wasn't like she'd been very interested in the first place. She found herself being very much amused just watching Hux watch it-- it was clearly a favorite, his eyes brightening every time Rebel scum were mercilessly slaughtered, silently mouthing out the words to every pompous, crowing speech...

Though, she had to admit, the latter habit was making it a bit difficult to decide the perfect moment to kiss him.

It had been about three weeks since their engagement was first decided, but they had yet to share any intimacy beyond the use of personal names and occasional shared dinners. Hux had tried, several times, but she had been trying her best to respectfully avoid it. She'd become rather fixated on the "right time" for it, the "perfect moment." She didn't actually know what she meant by that (especially considering that in all her previous relationships, the "right time" had been "as soon as humanly possible"), but it was the sort of thing one would know once one saw it. Maybe. She hoped it was, at least.

The plot had reached its crescendo, with dying Rebel forces crying out feebly under the well-polished boot of the handsome Imperial officer protagonist, and Hux was stock still in Phasma's arms. They had started the night sitting a respectable few spaces apart on the couch in Hux's quarters, but as time had passed and he lost himself in his favorite film, they had slowly inched together until her arms were over his shoulders, his body tucked in the crux of her arm, her head resting on his.

He sighed contently as a phaser blasted through a man's chest.

That was, she decided, as perfect a moment as she was ever going to get.

She used her free hand to turn his face towards her by his chin, and she smiled at the slightly offended look he had until he realized just what she'd turned him _for_ \-- about three seconds before she tipped his head up and claimed his lips with her own.

It wasn't a bad kiss. It wasn't a great kiss, but it wasn't as terrible as she, quite honestly, had been expecting it to be. He was still for a few moments longer than he should have been, and when he reached up to grab her face, his fingers tangled a bit too hard and pulled out short strands of platinum blonde, but it all began moving a lot more smoothly once he'd melted against her.

She gently pushed until his back was on the couch, parting only briefly before kissing him again, her tongue pressing at thin lips until they parted to allow her inside. His whole body shivered as she traced the lines of his palate, and she felt a stirring against her thigh as she pushed it between his legs--

 _Mrrrap_.

It was a noise unlike anything she had ever heard before. Without breaking her connection, Phasma glanced to the side, and then down. Sitting at the base of the couch was an odd animal, massive and bright orange, with a long, flicking tail and eerie eyes that seemed to be glaring at her specifically.

Hux pulled away from her, staring down at the creature with what could only be described as an exasperated fondness. "Not now, Millie," he said, his voice a full octave higher than normal, "Daddy's busy."

 _Rrrow_. The beast's yellowish eyes gleamed in the dim light. _Mrah_.

"Alright, alright." He sighed deeply and gently pushed Phasma off him, standing up with a long stretch before crossing the room to his closet. The orange thing followed dutifully at his heels, and began to whine plaintively when he brought a small sack and a metal dish out. "This is it for tonight, though," he said to it, pouring a small mound of dried pellets into the dish, which it instantly latched onto when he moved away.

"Brendol."

He looked at her with slight surprise, as if he'd forgotten she was there. "Yes?" he asked.

"What the fuck is that?"

He frowned. "What's what?" he asked.

"That thing whose meal is, apparently, much more important and interesting than potentially having sex with me?"

"Potentially?" He paused, as if to consider the very delicate matter in front of him. "Well. This is Millicent. My cat."

"A cat?" She'd seen cats before, and that was nothing like she'd ever seen. It was huge, and hairy, and slightly demonic-looking. "I've never seen a cat that looked like that."

"She's a very rare breed." He puffed up proudly as it loudly inhaled its food. He very nearly looked like a father, then. "It's very much against regulation to have pets onboard a starship, but my rank allows me quite a bit of leeway. Milly is one of my very few indulgences."

Once Millicent had finished eating, she slowly waddled her way back into the darkness of Hux's bedroom, and that essentially murdered any of Phasma's lingering hopes about the evening. Hux's were, apparently, still fighting for life, as he went to sit down next to her, carding his fingers through her hair.

"If you wouldn't mind," he said, "I'd rather like to get back to what we'd started..."

She took his hand in hers and slowly brought it down, resting on her thigh. "I'm... a bit tired," she said. "And I've an early patrol in the morning. I should be getting back to my quarters."

The disappointment was obvious in his eyes. Still, he kissed her once on the lips, chaste as anything. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

As she made her way back to her room, she lost herself in her thoughts. What an odd creature, this man she was to spend the rest of her life with was turning out to be. Passionate about destruction, order, and pride; inordinately fond of a small, fuzzy monster. Not naturally skilled at kissing, but quite a fast learner. Respectful of her and her sovereignty, but nursing a growing desire he didn't seem sure how to fully realize.

She was, she thought, quite a bit in love with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really like the headcanon that star wars cats are usually things like sphinxes, and so an orange tabby like Millicent is a bit weird and that's exactly why Hux, Total Snob, bought her. also she's super fat because Hux is a stupidly indulgent father.


	4. Chapter 4

She often wondered, as she sat through meetings, how she was supposed to take Hux seriously anymore. How was she supposed to listen to her commanding officer announce the latest updates from the Starkiller Base building crew when she knew far too much about him? 

And she did know far too much about him. She knew he owned a cat, and that he loved that cat, to the point where he would become physically unable to move if said cat decided it wanted to sleep on his lap. She knew he had hours-long conversations with his mother on, at minimum, a monthly basis, where he informed her about every minuscule detail of his life and she did the same. She knew that, despite the fact that he had lived in space for most of his life, he felt uncomfortable at any temperature lower than a balmy tropical jungle. She knew that he wore slight lifts in his shoes, and that he, more likely than not, had at _least_ one plastic-wrapped sparklemint stick in his greatcoat pocket.

It was odd, to say the very least, to have such facts swimming around in your mind while your fellow officers looked on with rapt, almost fearful attention. She was thankful, as usual, for her helmet; in there, she could grin as much as she pleased.

It was during times like these that she felt a slight kinship with Kylo Ren, who was the only other helmeted person at their meetings. He never seemed to be paying any attention in the first place; in fact, though his gaze _appeared_ to be focused solely on her, she was sure he'd fallen asleep. Again.

The meeting ended, and nearly everyone slowly but steadily left the room. Soon, it was just Phasma and Hux, sitting across from each other at a table. He was so engrossed in plans and papers that he didn't seem to realize she was still there.

She cleared her throat, loud through her voice modulator, and he looked up. "Is there something you wish to discuss, Captain?" he asked, waiting a full second before returning to his reading.

It took the loud click of her helmet being removed and placed, gently, on the table in front of him to truly catch his attention. "Jocasta?" he asked, having sensed the line crossing despite not having personally witnessed it.

She'd been thinking of doing it for days. Since their holo night, they'd been kissing quite a bit-- but only in private, with the surety of doors and locks protecting them from the outside world. The meeting room was relatively private-- people weren't likely to linger for very long, and they hardly had any reason to come back-- but it was just public enough to interest her.

That was why she crossed over to him. That was why she turned his chair around, put her hand on the side of his face, and kissed him.

Half of it was for her own personal pleasure. Half was her intense desire to see if that pale face could get as red as the hair above it. (So, really, it was all for her own pleasure.)

There was a light dusting of a blush on his nose as she pulled back, matched by her own when he grabbed her hair and yanked her back down.

He'd improved so much since that first night, less tentative and more sure, more of what he wanted from a kiss-- teeth worrying lips, nails on scalp-- and what she'd taught him to give her-- tongue slow, open lips pressed hard-- but, still as eager as ever

In her pleasant haze, she didn't know why, exactly, she decided to turn her head towards the door. She didn't recognize the light pull at her brain for what it was, mistaking it for the physical sensation of Hux's fingers. Still, she looked.

And there was Kylo Ren.

He'd left. She knew he'd left; she'd specifically waited for him to leave, knowing Hux wouldn't even begin to let down the walls of his military bearing in front of him. That meant only one thing, of course. For some reason, Ren had come back.

Had he forgotten something? No, she could see the lightsaber at his side, and he had little else to forget. Did he have a question? No, he'd have to give a damn about literally anything they were doing before that, and that wasn't going to happen. She could not, for the life of her, imagine why he'd come back-- but, in the end, that didn't really matter. All that mattered was that he was there, for however long he'd been there, and that he was most definitely watching.

While she had been thinking, Hux had broken off their kiss faster than was wise (she only realized that her lip had snagged and was, from a slight cut, sluggishly bleeding the entire time, much later) and turned on Ren with venom and fire in his eyes.

"Lord Ren!" he snapped, in his way of being overly ostentatious when he was truly furious with someone. "What do you think you're doing? How long have you been standing there?"

He lifted his hands in a pacifying gesture, and Phasma let out a sigh, sure that he was going to disengage from the conversation and leave, with minimum harm done, and that they would all soon forget this had ever happened.

And _then_ he said, "Long enough."

"Get. Out!" If something besides her helmet had been within reach, she was sure he would've thrown it at Ren, who decided that _that_ was the best time to quickly duck out of the room. Hux's face was drawn thin and pale with fury, and he glared at the space the other man left behind.

"It could have been worse," she said, more for something to say than out of any real belief.

"There is not a single thing in the galaxy," he said tersely, "that could have made that worse."

"I could've been sucking your cock."

She was pleased to see him, finally, turn the exact same shade as his hair.


	5. Chapter 5

They fell down on the bed together, breathless and grinning, her arms pinning him to the sheets, her knees on either side of his hips.

They were in Hux's new quarters on Starkiller Base, which were much larger and significantly less cat hair-covered than the Finalizer. He had sent her a message during their short, separate shuttle flights from the ship-- boldly asking if she wouldn't mind joining him, as said quarters needed "breaking in."

She nearly bowled over three of her own Stormtroopers in her haste to get off the shuttle.

When she arrived, he was already there, unpacking his clothes as if he didn't have a care in the world, as if he hadn't so casually propositioned her-- yet, it wasn't very casual at all, was it? Though he was clearly trying to look calm and collected, the evidence of his excitement was much more obvious than her own.

Their first sexual experience together would be on top of a superweapon that would draw the life from a star and use that power to destroy entire planets. She couldn't have planned a more auspicious start if she'd tried.

By the time they reached the bed, she had already half-stripped him; though he'd taken off most of his clothing in anticipation before she had even arrived, he was now down to just his trousers. She dragged her hands down his slim chest, pausing to tweak a small nipple to peaked hardness before continuing down his flat stomach.

(She felt, at that moment, something like a hand brushing her shoulder, but she shrugged it off. Drafty. All new bases were.)

Her hands rested at his hips for a moment, and when she nuzzled her face against the hardness pressing at the fabric of his trousers, she earned a loud groan. "You're such a tease..." His words petered off into a yelp when she grabbed him roughly through the cloth, smirking. "Gods! Alright, I'll take it back..."

She pulled the trousers off easily, throwing them carelessly behind her. (Hux's hair moved without anything having touched it. They didn't notice.) He was left only in his underwear, then, a sluggishly growing wet spot staining the front of it. She looked up at him, at his reddening face and hazy eyes, and just barely freed his cock. She kissed the head gently, tonguing a wet line towards the base--

(Things can always get worse.) 

The feeling, like ghostly fingers sticking into her mind, had returned, but with no physical sensations to mask them, Phasma finally recognized them for what they were. It wasn't something that most people paid attention to, back in the Academy; most people scoffed and loudly wondered why it was even being taught anymore, if they were all dead.

But, she had paid attention. And that was why she was able to recognize the sensation of a Force-user, a _Jedi_ , prying into her thoughts.

"Get _out_!" With the passing of time, she would, eventually, find Hux's horrified expression to be hilarious. At that time, however, she was too busy _screaming_ inside of her head, mentally pushing until she could feel the fingers lifting, feel the strange presence leaving the room. She put her hands to her temples, feeling the start of a headache coming on. It hadn't hurt the other day. He'd been in there deep, this time.

But, for _what_?

She looked down to see Hux still on the bed, a mix of nervousness and concern on his face, one hand extended only halfway towards her, as if he'd tried but thought better of it. His erection had flagged-- not nearly as much as she'd thought screaming at him would?-- but that didn't matter much. Her own arousal had been murdered rather gruesomely, and didn't seem intent on coming back.

She leaned forward to give him a reassuring peck on the lips before she stood and went searching through the pile of discarded clothes for a commlink. When she found one, she pressed in a certain code and waited for the response.

"Yes, General?"

(Oh, she'd picked the wrong one. No matter. It just made her point more effectively.)

"Lord Ren," she said, her voice steely but calm. She could hear the voice on the other end hitch slightly; he wasn't wearing his mask. She wondered if he'd put it on just for the short walk over. "You will meet me in the General's quarters in approximately fifteen minutes."

"Captain--"

"You heard me." She turned it off and threw it back onto the pile of clothes. Only then did she let out the breath she'd been holding. Whatever this strange business was, it was going to end tonight. Hopefully with minimum casualties.

She looked at Hux, who was still sitting on the bed looking horribly lost, and grinned at him. "Well, he’ll be here any minute," she said. "You really should put on a robe, or something."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Millicent is back on the Finalizer, being cared for by the most terrified officer in the First Order.
> 
> also decided to be a lot more honest in the rating. and the tags. and with myself.


	6. Chapter 6

Hux had managed to sort through the nearly obscene amount of unnecessary clothing items he'd brought with him and find (really) a black silk robe that made him look slightly like a casually dressed Sith Lord by the time their actual casually dressed Sith Lord appeared in the doorway. He'd put his helmet back on, as she'd suspected, and stalked into the private quarters as if they'd simply called him to the bridge.

"General." He turned towards her, head cocked to the side; his voice, through the modulator, was calm and even as ever, as if he hadn't just been using the Force to hijack her giving a blowjob. "Captain."

"Take off the bloody tin can," Hux snapped, tugging the robe tighter around his body. Even though he was partially naked, he sat on the couch the way most people sat on an emperor's throne, and he managed to look imperiously down his nose at Kylo despite his being considerably taller.

Half of her expected him not to comply, but there was the distinct click of it being removed. She'd also expected him to throw it to the floor; instead, he merely walked closer towards Hux (who, to his credit, barely flinched) and slammed it down upon the coffee table.

She suddenly realized that she'd never actually... _seen_ Lord Ren's face before. Looking at it then, she tried to remember what she'd thought it looked like before. Like his grandfather's, she supposed; scarred somehow, destroyed beyond recognition... Never a relatively normal young man's, with odd-fitting features on a wide, pale diamond of a face, framed by thick waves of impossibly black hair. Never anything like that.

He was, in his way, handsome. Tall, certainly. And dark in nearly every way one could be.

She managed to stop staring long enough to remember that she was upset.

"You know why you're here," she said, clearing her throat aggressively. "Tell me, Lord Ren: how long have you been making it a habit to pry inside people's minds during their most intimate of moments?"

It was clear why he so favored his mask; his face was painfully expressive. His eyes cast downwards, his lower lip worried by his teeth, clear anxiety in each twitching muscle...

"Never," he said, his voice different without the modulator, but not unpleasant, "before today."

"Liar."

They both looked over to Hux, whose eyes gleamed. "I remember that incident, after the meeting," he said. "I'd dismissed it at the time, thinking nothing of it, but... You were there then, weren't you? In my mind?"

Phasma frowned. It rather messed up her working theory if Kylo had been playing around in Hux's mind, too.

Before she could say anything else, Kylo said, in a rather plaintive tone, "Never before that."

With the implication being obvious: _Never before you_.

But, never before the _both_ of them?

"I just don't see why you two are suddenly so," he stopped suddenly and swallowed, as if his throat was dry, "well-acquainted."

"It's absolutely no concern of yours," Hux said. "Besides, didn't you pick it up during your little diving expedition in our heads?"

"I wasn't looking at your thoughts," he said. She could see his eyes narrow in thought; he was trying very hard to pick the right words to describe what he was doing. "I was... feeling."

"Feeling what we were feeling." He looked up at her in slight surprise, then nodded, eyes turned almost bashfully to the floor. "But... You weren't just interested in one thing, were you? Not just in him touching me. Nor me touching him."

She glanced over at Hux, who seemed to be catching up to speed. "You know," he said, with a sort of casual thoughtfulness that didn't fit the situation at all, "ever since that day, I'd thought you were jealous of me--"

Kylo scoffed loudly.

"-- jealous of my relationship _with_ her. That you had some sort of miserable little crush and wanted her for your own. But, that's not entirely true, is it? You're jealous, of course, but not just of me."

A slow smile spread across his face. It exuded smug victory.

"You're jealous of both of us. You _want_ both of us."

Splotches of red marred his face, long arms crossing over each other nervously. Phasma walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder-- he reacted with a violent twist, but calmed at her expression. It wasn't angry or disgusted or any of the others he'd imagined. It was simply... curious.  
She looked him square in the eye and said, "Kiss me."

He readily took her up on it, moving so fast she barely had time to prepare before his teeth bumped against her closed lips. When he pressed forward a second time, she was ready, moving her lips against his in what had to have been the most chaste kiss she'd ever had in her entire life.

She broke it off quickly, grinned at the obvious disappointment in his eyes, and said against his lips, "Now. Go kiss him."

Kylo turned to look at Hux, who was still sitting on the couch, watching them kiss with rapt attention, though he frowned and self-consciously crossed his legs when he noticed their attentions had turned towards him. Kylo moved with the same speed as before, pushing Hux's shoulders back as he aggressively claimed his mouth. Hux was frozen for only a few seconds before he responded just as fiercely, moving his hands up to tangle in Kylo's hair as he pulled him that much closer.

Phasma sat on the couch next to them, turned so that she could best watch them move against each other, catching glimpses of teeth and tongue as Kylo seemed determined to sate weeks of hunger all at once. She reached out to grab hold of his hair, wrenching him back, swallowing down his animalistic growl before breaking off just as fast, turning to thread her fingers through Hux's hair before kissing him deeply.

Yes. She could make this work. She could definitely, _definitely_ make this work.


	7. Chapter 7

They were all on the bed together: Hux, laid out on his back, hands gripping Phasma's hips hard enough to leave finger-length purple streaks on the pale skin there; Phasma, slowly rocking her hips downwards as she took his cock deep into her; Kylo, his chest against Phasma's back, his large hands gripping whatever unmarked flesh they could find, his cock half-hard against the small of her back. (He'd already come once that night, shooting down an overly confident Hux's throat so suddenly he'd made him choke on it, which had nearly killed the whole night with Phasma's laughing.)

As she pressed back against Kylo, resting her head on his shoulder, she felt... good. Though she rarely liked to admit it to herself, she'd never felt fully comfortable in her body. Her conquests in the Academy had more to do with the boldness of her personality than her looks, and she would always remember how she'd felt at her coming of age ceremony: odd and gawky in a dress meant to be tailored to her, standing a head above even the fully grown men who tried to dance with her. She was strong and stalwart and built to wage war-- not to be a great beauty.

But, with Hux staring up at her like she'd personally placed the stars in the sky, and Kylo close to coming undone once again just from groping her modest breasts, she certainly felt like one.

Hux's hands slipped from her hips to grasp the sheets of his bed, and his thrusts turned unsteady as she felt him come inside her. She felt Kylo's arm snake around her middle and his fingers, callused and rough, rub against her throbbing clit, which was all she needed to come, back arched and crying out, contracting hard around his softening cock.

She nearly fell off him in exhaustion, but felt two pairs of hands steady her and bring her down to the bed much more gently. They all stank of sweat and sex, but the refresher seemed miles away, and the thought of being sandwiched between two warm bodies was far more tempting than that of being clean.

On her back, she was able to wrap her arms around them both, Hux easily nestled against her and Kylo seeming to tower over the both of them on his side. Both had hands resting on the wide plane of her stomach, and though she thought there plenty of room for both, they slowly fidgeted and skittered around each other. It amused her; it made her think of two small animals facing each other, uncertain whether to fight or fuck.

"We still need to have a conversation."

She glanced down at Hux, whose clear attempt at looking serious was utterly ruined by the fact that he was, rather ridiculously, looking up at them through his eyelashes. "There is nothing that could be so important that it needs to happen _now_."

"No, it's very important-- Ren." He paused, as if considering the increased level of intimacy once you've had someone's cock in your mouth. " _Kylo_. You were right, you know. For once in your life."

"Do you think you can try getting all the way through it without insulting me," he asked sleepily, resting his head against Phasma's head.

"I promise nothing."

"Fine. Just tell me what I was right about."

"Our relationship. Mine and the captain's. Mine and Jocasta's." He paused again. Her name still tripped up his neutral pathways for some reason, as if he didn't feel right using it. "We're engaged."

That got his attention. "Engaged?" He considered that new fact. "... Is she pregnant?"

"No!" " _Stars_ , no!"

"Huh..." He frowned against her hair. "I didn't pick up anything before a few weeks ago. You were barely friends."

"We were friends..."

"It's an arraigned marriage, Kylo," she said, sighing. "We had no decision in it; our families made the match for us. It's very common, amongst our kind."

"I've heard about it, of course... If it's arraigned, though, why all...?" He gestured at the two of them in general. "This?"

"We're making the best of it," they answered in unison. Phasma laughed; Hux rolled his eyes, but couldn't help a grin.

The smile faded fast, though. "So, you can see why _this_ relationship," he said, gesturing to the three of them, "is a bit... untenable."

Kylo looked at him blankly. "Why?"

That took Hux aback. " _Why_?" he asked. "How is that even a question? The scandal alone..."

"A married couple taking a lover?" He shrugged. "That's as natural as anything."

"And what's the point of being powerful if you can't use it for your own pleasure?" Phasma tightened her grip on the two of them, smiling. "I'm not one to give up things once I've gotten them. It's my one selfish trait." 

"I've run men through for lesser things than gossiping about me," Kylo said. "Literally killing rumors at their sources doesn't sound too hard."

They both looked down at Hux, who withstood their gazes for an admirable amount of time before sighing deeply.

"Could I ask for just the slightest hint of decorum?" he asked. "I barely feel comfortable with the idea of people knowing about the two of us-- I'm sure the three of us would send my mother to her grave."

"Oh, Bren, we wouldn't _dream_ of it."

Thus mollified, Hux was the first of them to fall asleep, snoring lightly against Phasma's chest. She felt herself slowly nodding off to the soothing feeling of Kylo's long fingers running over her scalp.

"What do you think would shock the indomitable Madame Hux the most?" Kylo asked with an audible grin. "The fact that her son's taken a lover, or the fact that it's me?"

"If the stories I've heard about her are true," she said, "anything short of a Hutt wouldn't even merit a raised brow."


	8. Chapter 8

"Neither of you, then?"

Hux didn't like where the conversation had gone. Things had been going so well, too; since he was finally able to divulge his dining companions to culinary-- things seemed a lot less suspicious when there were three instead of two, oddly enough-- they were able to provide meals that met everyone's exacting specifications, and, well... He liked seeing Phasma and Kylo happy. More than he'd thought he would.

But, he admitted to himself, he'd trade every ounce of their happiness if Phasma would just _shut the fuck up about dating_.

"I almost did, once," he said, more defensively than he'd ever admit. "It didn't end well."

"Did she escape out the bathroom window?" Even though he was also a target of Phasma's mockery, Kylo was in one of his (increasingly common) good moods. His eyes shone, and he hid a grin behind his hand.

"No, she attempted to behead me and send it to my father."

"Oh, I heard about that," Phasma said. "Didn't she get expelled?"

"No, just transferred to a different facility. My father praised her ambition. I think she's a major by now." He pointed an accusing fork at a chuckling Kylo. "I don't suppose you've gotten any closer, what with your Sith training on isolated planets with only an old man for company."

"A boy made me hold his hand for five hours, once." He looked somewhat wistful about it. "Does that count?"

"I still can't believe," she said, shaking her head, "that neither of you have ever been on an actual, proper date."

"Not all of us had such... prolific experiences at the Academy."

She clapped her hands together. "It's decided, then," she said. "We're going on a date. Tomorrow."

"Isn't this a date?" Kylo asked into his food.

"We can't, not now! Starkiller will be ready for its first firing in only a few days, there's so much left to do--"

She held up her hand to silence them. He was somewhat surprised by how well it worked. "It won't take more than a few hours," she said. "And we'll excuse it as a recon mission by going to Hosnian Prime. Take it all in before we obliterate it from existence."

"I'll go if Hux goes."

He stared at Kylo, slightly sullen but not really any more than usual, then looked back at Phasma, who was smiling at him, almost sweetly...

"Alright!" he said, finally. "Just a few hours. What could possibly go wrong in just a few hours...?"

-

He really did look ridiculous. It was easy enough for Phasma and Kylo to walk amongst the common people of the Republic; though they were exceptionally tall and strong, dressed in casual, slummy clothing, they looked like any other young couple out for a night on the town. Hux was the problem case: too well known, the recognizable face of the First Order machine. He needed to wear a disguise.

The cap sat low on his head, completely obscuring his trademark red hair; dark black glasses hid the crazed eyes popularized by propaganda holos. He looked thin and small out of his normal uniform-- utterly precious. It made her want to pet him and cosset him and tell him how beautiful he was-- but, she knew he was already dangerously close to a foul temper. It was best not to instigate.

The cantina-- because of course they were at a cantina, the dirtiest they could find-- was raucous and loud, and though she occassionaly lost him behind the crowd, she tried to keep an eye on Hux. It wasn't like he was going anywhere, sitting at a corner table and nursing a fruity drink Kylo had semi-jokingly forced on him as he was, but she still worried that he felt left out. He wasn't adapting to dating as well as Kylo was.

_Kylo_...

His hands were pressed into her hips, pushing her back as he ground against her in time to the band. He was, she was quite surprised to learn, quite a good dancer; and when that dancing inevitably descended into animalistic rutting, well, he ended up being quite good at that as well. They made a rather handsome pair, dark and light pressed close enough together that you could barely tell them apart.

She breathlessly parted from him for just a moment, escaping from the crush of the crowd to dip into the refresher. When she returned, she couldn't immediately find Kylo in the crowd...

A hand touched her shoulder.

She tried not to react. She casually glanced behind to stare at the fool who had dared to even approach her. It was a Togruta, and clearly a low-class brute who had no idea what he was getting himself into.

"Saw you out on the dance floor," he said, smiling lazily, his voice thick with a drawl. "You made a real pretty sight."

"Thank you very much," she said, attempting to side step him. No reason to cause a scene in such a public place. She could easily defuse the situation. "Now, I really must be getting back to my partner--"

"You're an Imperial girl, ain'tcha?" He moved with her, blocking her way. "You can tell-- they're all pale and severe-looking, like they're born with a stick up their ass. What're you doing so far from the Outer Rim, Imp?"

"You'd do well to--"

She couldn't even finish her threat.

She felt the warm, familiar splash of another being's blood against her body. Both she and the Togrutan looked down to see the clean cut of a blaster right through his midsection. As he collapsed the ground, she saw Hux, standing just a few feet away, holding up his blaster with a steady hand.

His sunglasses were gone. She could see his eyes. She saw death in those eyes. Saw madness, fire, destruction. The end of all life. All in those pale, shining eyes.

There was screaming, running, people fighting to leave the fastest-- they left too, eventually, she assumed. They found their way back to their shuttle, but Phasma couldn't remember a single detail of their journey there. All she could remember were those eyes.

-

The ride back to Starkiller Base was dead silent, the air thick with... something. Kylo couldn't pin it down, but it was something like tension, coming off all three of them in waves. Hux piloted, barely even looking at them. Phasma's clothes still smelled of a dead man's blood, but she didn't seem all too concerned about it. She was worried, though; she'd seen the look in Hux's eyes after the shot, and she worried about what it meant.

He reached out and took her hand in his own, holding it until they arrived. She gave him a thin smile and squeezed hard.

When they arrived, he briefly considered going off to his own room, letting Hux sleep off whatever strangeness had overcome him-- but, when Phasma pointedly (not even bothering to hide her path in front of her 'troopers) followed him, he had to come along. He felt like leaving them alone was a bad idea... For which one, he wasn't sure.

Before he could even shut the door, he was on her.

He brought her to the ground, more out of surprise than by any real strength, and kissed her hard, angling his face against hers as he wrapped his fingers in her hair and pulled. Phasma was clearly stunned, and glanced over at Kylo... But, it wasn't shock; it was more amazement, mixed with just the slightest hint of fear.

(If it had been any more than a hint, he would have, and easily could have, put a stop to the whole business. Luckily, there wasn't.)

One hand stayed in her hair, his arm leaning against the floor to ground him while his other hand went to her blouse, rending the cheap, flimsy material until the torn shreds fell from her body.

Kylo watched them writhe against each other for a few more minutes before he went to take a seat on the couch. He leaned back, lazily palming himself through his trousers as the scene in front of him turned a bit more violent, Phasma having regained enough of her senses to push back against Hux's assault. Still, he seemed to, for once, have the upper hand; he bit the side of her throat hard enough to draw blood, and she groaned, rough and ragged.

It was more like fighting than fucking, really, and he ached to join them. But, he sensed that Hux had... something he really desperately needed to work out, and he didn't want to interrupt that. After all, if he'd learned anything from this relationship, it was that the real fun didn't really start until round two.

-

She awoke to an empty bed. She was halfway to feeling concerned (and a little hurt) when she heard voices in the next room. As she changed into the civvies she always kept in Hux's quarters, she strained to listen in on the conversation, but couldn't make anything out... Just who was speaking: Hux and his mother, the grand dame Daemora Hux.

"Of course, Mummy."

They were in the front room, Hux hastily dressed and talking to a small hologram of his mother on the couch, Kylo still naked and lounging on the couch next to him, looking greatly amused by the whole business. She noted that Hux's hand was idly petting Kylo's sleep-mussed hair, and she wondered if he'd actually noticed that it wasn't his cat next to him.

Hux's eyes glanced from the hologram as she walked in, then immediately turned back. "Would you mind if I called you back later, Mummy?" he asked, his voice so oddly acquiescent and mild that she hardly recognized it. "I've an important meeting."

"Of course, darling. Give Jocasta my love."

"Of course."

The hologram blipped out, and Kylo let out the laughter he'd clearly been holding in for a while. "'Yes, Mummy. Of course, Mummy. Whatever you say, Mummy,'" he said, mimicking Hux's tone. He merely rolled his eyes and pushed Kylo's head off his lap.

"Yes, what an utter embarrassment loving your mother must be. I don't know how I'll ever recover from such a scandal." He glanced up, taking in the bruises and faded bite marks barely hidden by Phasma's clothes. "Are you alright? I could call a medic droid in here--"

"I'm fine," she said, sitting down at his other side. "I've had worse."

"You didn't ask if I needed anything," Kylo said, sounding somewhat put out about it as he sat up. 

" _Do_ you need something?"

"No. It's just nice to be asked." He smirked. "You're such a closet misogynist, Brendol. Forget that she's the best damn soldier in the Order; Phasma's a woman, so she's made of glass."

"Is it wrong for a man to be worried about his bride?"

"Yes, when said bride could bench press you--"

"I really am fine. Boys." She gave them warning looks, and they quieted. "I'm honestly more concerned about you. Yesterday..."

"Ah... I've always had this sort of... It's hard to describe, really. I just lose my mind over some things."

"Bloodlust," Kylo supplied helpfully.

"For lack of a better word. Mixed with a slight amount of jealousy..." Hux's eyes got a sort of faraway, wistful look. "That man... I knew he couldn't hurt you. I knew nothing would happen. But, the sheer possibility... I lost my composure."

"It was scorchingly hot."

They both looked at Kylo, who shrugged. "It was concerning and slightly unnerving," he said, "but that doesn't make it any less hot."

"Hm." She leaned over and kissed Hux's temple. "Well, it's passed. That's all we can really do about it."

"You know what's also concerning and slightly unnerving?" Kylo said. "Brendol's attachment to his mother."

"Hardly!" Hux said. "There's nothing strange about it. I just happen to be very close to my mother. She knew the Starkiller was ready before even Leader Snoke did."

He paused, before adding on, completely unprompted, "I love my father as well, of course. But one always favors one parent over the other, don't they?"

"My parents died too early for me to pass judgment," she said.

"I hate both my parents equally," he said.

Hux sighed dramatically. "You're both incorrigible." But, he smiled. She was glad. She liked it when he smiled.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short and sweet
> 
> I give the game away a little bit with the tags, but I like everyone knowing what they're getting into.

The wine flowed easily. It was a good year, a vintage of a world no more, but Hux and Kylo gulped it down like Academy boys swilling rotgut, caring little for its subtleties and mouth feel. Maybe one of them would have cared, on literally any other night, but Hux was still high on the thrill of firing off his beloved Starkiller and had not a care in the world. He was barely clothed, just his underclothes and boots and hat, sitting in Kylo's lap and lightheartedly squabbling about something entirely unimportant.

They were so caught up in themselves that they neglected to notice that Phasma, who sat in silence on the couch, hadn't touched the wine glass in front of her at all.

"You two are having a good time," she said, looking at them fondly.

Kylo somehow managed to pull his attention away from the very interesting galaxies of freckles on Hux's shoulders long enough to actually look at Phasma... And whatever he saw, he was not entirely comfortable with it.

"There's... There's something strange about you," he said uncertainly. "I can see it... But, I don't recognize it. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." She smiled. "If you pay very close attention, though," she said, "I bet you could figure out what it is on your own."

Kylo frowned and squinted, as if that would help him feel better through the Force. He closed his eyes and reached out, trying to see--

He stood up so abruptly that Hux fell to the ground with an inelegant squawk. "What was that about--" Hux paused, staring bleary and confused up at Kylo, who had a hand pressed against his mouth in shock. "Would either of you mind telling me what's going on?"

"Come see for yourself." She gestured for him to come over to her. When he did, crawling on his knees, she took his hands and placed them over her clothed stomach.

He felt nothing. Of course he didn't; he knew, realistically, that there had definitely not been enough time to produce anything substantial, something that someone could pick up without medical equipment or, apparently, the Force. But, he knew what she was doing. He wasn't so daft that he couldn't recognize a universal sign.

"How long have you known?" he asked, his voice, quite admirably, steady.

"I had it confirmed a few days ago, but I believe it's about two months along," she said. "I wanted to surprise you both... And I wanted to avoid putting off combat missions for as long as physically possible, of course. I figured that once you knew, neither of you would allow me off base."

He took a deep breath. "You're _pregnant_ ," he said on the exhale, and saying it out loud made it all seem so much more real.

"She's a girl," Kylo said, with dead certainty. He had moved to sit next to Phasma, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. She leaned into him and smiled.

Hux rolled his eyes. "You idiot. It's hardly more than a clump of cells at this point; even your Force magic couldn't figure it out this early!"

"Her name is Padmé," he said. "We're going to name her Padmé."

"We are not!" he snapped. "There's already a fifty percent chance this child is going to carry Skywalker genes-- we're not dooming it any further!"

"He has a point," Phasma said lightly, rolling her eyes at Kylo's putout expression. "That sounds like tempting fate... Perhaps you can argue for a middle name. Anything more could be dangerous."

Hux leaned forward, placing his cheek on her stomach. "I'll give her the galaxy," he said, half under his breath. "I'll give her the universe. I'll give her all of reality to bend to her will."

Phasma smiled and slowly pet his hair-- and, quite admirably, didn't tease him about the growing wet spot on her shirt.


	10. Chapter 10

The shuttle smelled like blood and scorched flesh, recycled air hot as Hux pushed the small ship's engines as hard as they would go, only letting up when they were successfully out of the range of the expanding star that had once been his beloved Starkiller Base.

Hux had so few things he considered beloved in his life. He had managed to save two of them, though they were both a bit worse for wear.

Kylo faded in and out of consciousness, head resting on a makeshift pillow made from Hux's coat. Thanks to some very rustic triage work on Phasma's part, he was physically stable. Mentally, though... The few moments he found himself awake, he spent weeping and moaning in pain. It was difficult to listen to.

Phasma seemed better off, though she had also refused to take off her armor, dented though it was by her fall into the garbage chute. She sat in stony silence at Kylo's side, ungloved hand pressed tenderly against his cheek, and refused to look at Hux for reasons he couldn't understand.

"Will you let me look at you?" His voice was quiet, pleading, nearly desperate, and he didn't even mind how it made him sound. He felt every ounce of worry in it. "At least let me do that."

Her helmet came off first. There was a shallow cut on her head that had bled excessively, matting her hair, and several bruises on her pale skin. The bruises followed as she removed, piece by piece, her reeking armor. It fell carelessly at her feet, which made him wince; he knew how much she loved it, how much pride she took in it. It was salvageable, surely; they'd be able to fix it. He'd be able to fix everything.

All of her wounds made sense to him. The cut on the head looked bad, but he knew from experience that they often looked worse than they truly were, and though the blood soaking her hair and shirt seemed terrifying, it wasn't even close to fatal. She favored one leg over the other, and he assumed the other was, at best, fractured; that could easily be mended.

The blood soaking her thighs took an almost embarrassingly long time for him to put together.

When she let the final piece drop, he took her in his arms, holding her closely, her blood mingling with Kylo's on his once pristine uniform. She didn't move; she stood, still but for the slightest tremble of her hands. He wasn't sure either of them were breathing anymore; all he could hear were the pained whimpers coming from below.

"Well." He backed off, wiped the blood crusting his hands off on his dirty trousers. "There's been a change of plans." He went to the pilot's chair and began charting an alternate course, hands moving quick over the buttons and levers. He spoke as he worked. "First, we'll go to the _Finalizer_. Gather anyone loyal who's still alive-- kill the rest. I don't want the message getting out. Not before we're ready."

"Just what are you planning, Bren?" Her voice sounded so tired, so sad. He saw nothing but red flames choking his vision, and it took everything he had not to react violently, not to purge his anger with a fist against a console.

(Stars, he was beginning to understand Kylo's temper tantrums. What a long day it had been.)

"What I've been planning since the very first day I took command-- no, since the day I first had cognizant thought." She had moved to stand by his side-- where she should be, where he would always want her. He glanced up at her with manic pride. "I'm taking control of the First Order. Full control. We're going to assassinate Snoke and take his place as the supreme leaders before continuing towards our goal of complete galactic conquest."

"We'll be killed," she said.

"We surely will if we don't act. This may be our only chance. Snoke will be expecting, at most, a small contingent ferrying Kylo to him; he won't be suspecting an army of any size."

He stood once again, taking her hands in his, gripping them almost tight enough to hurt. "I'll give you everything you've ever wanted, everything you've always deserved. I'll give you an army. I'll give you a throne. I'll give you an empire. I'll give you all the children you'll ever want. And them-- I'll give them everything."

His eyes fell on Kylo, who had finally fallen into a troubled, fitful sleep. "I'll give him his freedom," he said softly. "And after that, I'll give him the one thing he's never had: a choice. He can do whatever he wants with his life, even if what that is doesn't include staying and loving us. I want him to have that much."

There was a small, thin smile on Phasma's face. "You better not let the troops hear you talking like this," she said. "They'll start thinking you've gone soft."

He kissed her bloody hands. "I'll make us all gods among these wretched stars," he said. "I'll destroy this forsaken universe and build an empire on the ashes."

By the time they docked, the coup was already well under way.

It would succeed. It would succeed in every way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emperor Brendol and Empress Jocasta of the Second Galactic Empire go on to have three children: Prince Godwin and Princess Eupheme, the redheaded twins; and Princess Beatrice, the dark-haired Force user that people are often nervous to talk about. (And that the Emperor's enforcer, Kylo Ren, openly and shamelessly dotes upon.)
> 
> that's my sequel hook i'm pumped for some self-indulgent drama son


End file.
